Aftermath
by j3nnee
Summary: Neal returns to his 2 mile radius after 3 mos on the lam.
1. Chapter 1

**Aftermath**  
by elledeegee

_**White Collar** fanfic._

**SPOILERS**_:_

**_Sorry for not putting this sooner. I figured if this takes place after the last episode, people would guess there are spoilers._**

_Takes place 3 months after_ "**Out of the Box**"

Neal had no intention of ever returning to June's. Not that he wouldn't have under other circumstances but he had been promised immunity and his own life. At the time it seemed worth it to throw what he had gained away to be his own person... But now, everything was up in the air and Kate was gone. Everything he had worked towards, thought he wanted, had evaporated.

He thought about his last moments on the tarmac when he hesitated to talk to Peter. The agent had come to tell him good-bye, reluctantly he knew, but it had given Neal a warm feeling to know that Peter was there. The man really cared for him but Neal was only thinking of Kate at the time and the plane waiting to take them away to their new life. He didn't want to talk to the only person who could convince him of anything other than what he was anticipating. Then the floor was pulled out from under him as the air was filled with heat and a sound that nearly deafened the young con. He turned to find the very plane he and Kate were to leave on nothing more than a smoking pile of rubble. She had been inside. Kate. He had seen her peeking out at him curiously as he stopped to talk to Peter. If he hadn't stopped to talk to the agent, maybe... His thoughts grew dark at that moment, blame for Kate's death drawing him into a darker place he had never been to before.

So many thoughts ran through his mind: If he hadn't asked for Fowler to help, Peter would not have been suspended and Elizabeth's career nearly destroyed. If not for all of that, he couldn't have realized that the promise from Fowler and whomever was using him was no more than a deceit to use the young man to get the music box. If Peter hadn't shown up at the tarmac, the young man would have been on that plane and possibly dead. Neal realized he had been no more than a pawn. The young man realized that now, but everything was still so fresh in his mind that he was blinded in many ways by his anger, frustration and hurt.

This was not the way it was supposed to go! He was free now, technically, but to what extent? It still felt like he was in prison when he was kept in the dark as to why Kate was killed and perhaps that he had been meant to die aswell. The young man shook his head at the thought, looked up and tapped on the partition for the cabbie to stop.

He was back in his old two mile radius although now it wasn't his to stay in with the anklet gone. This was the small stretch of Central Park June and he used to walk and talk in. He pulled his overnight bag onto his shoulder, paid the cabbie and stepped out into the afternoon sun. The air was still chilly despite it being April. Three months since Kate's... He pushed the thought out of his mind and started walking. He stopped after a moment at a small gazebo he often sat in when he had had the time to visit and took a seat on the bench. The wind brushed around him quietly, touching his cheek and playing with his hair. He thought of the times he spent here with June. He smiled thinking of conversations he had with Peter and Elizabeth. He leaned back and closed his eyes, an audible sigh escaping his lips. So many memories and yet all he could think of was Kate and what might have been. What was it El had told him when he had tried to say good-bye? _Loving the idea of someone versus loving them for who they are?_ Neal leaned back further, finally realizing what she meant but knowing he wasn't ready to go there yet. He was a smart person but sometimes he was still so very naive about life and stubbornly set in his ways.

"Neal?" He turned towards the voice, opening his eyes and sat up as he realized who was talking. It was June. She was smiling at him although albeit more sadly than he remembered. She stood there in a nice brown dress with a flower-patterned shawl draped over her shoulders. She looked at him expectantly as if asking for permission to sit. He moved his bag to underneath the bench with a chagrined nod of his head. June seemed a little less sure of something and he could feel a slight tension between them as she sat beside him. Neal thought he knew why and wanted to say how he felt but it was still too soon for him to process everything that had happened or how to deal with people again. Even those he knew cared about him like June. He had spent the last few months hiding not only from himself but others.

"You look well. I had wondered how you were and... Well, it's good to see you again." Her voice was soft like he remembered and kind. She was being careful with her words, lying he knew when she said he looked well. He couldn't help but think she looked sad or disappointed in him. He had left without much warning and it had been all he could do _not_ to go back. She was like a mother to him and understood him better than anyone, but he had stayed away since the incident and tried to forget everything and everyone in the emotional haze he had been in. He wiped at his eyes and tried to act as if it hadn't been three months and he wasn't holding back his emotions.

"I've been trying to keep busy. Get things in perspective. Did you get my card?" He tried to meet her eyes but couldn't for some reason and stared at his feet instead, hands twiddling nervously in his lap. She noticed his body language, moving a bit closer and placing a hand on his arm. He finally looked up at her and their eyes met. He saw tears in hers and felt a few roll down his own cheeks. June reached up and brushed one away as she fought back her own.

"Yes I did. Thank you." She hesitated a moment then added: "Your room is just the way you left it. You're welcome to it anytime." She said nothing else and he nodded at her as if he had never left. She smiled in her old familiar manner and linked her arm in his as she stood and he did too, leading him from the bench and gazebo in the park and down the sidewalk. Neal watched her face as she spoke to him about things she had done over the three months and how well her granddaughter was doing since he had helped get her back on the organ donor list. He nodded automatically, honestly interested but still in a haze about how he had ended their friendship aswell as losing Kate. He fell into his old habit of following June, her voice soothing and comforting in its tone and inflection. Neal didn't notice the change from the Park to the street until they had walked a good mile back to her residence and the entrance to her home. June only let go of his arm long enough to unlock the door, open it and walk in. She paused when he didn't follow, looking back at him expectantly. Neal didn't move, something keeping him from entering her home.

"Neal, please... come in." Her voice held a hint of pleading he was unfamiliar with. He continued to hesitate, looking around as if for an escape route, eyes wide with some kind of frightened feeling he couldn't explain. He wasn't ready to come back even if June wanted him to. He didn't feel he had the right to return to this place. Peter had been right when he told him this was _too much for too little_. Neal didn't deserve to be here or to have June as his friend after he had been willing to give this all up for Kate. He took a hesitant step back away from the door when she reached out and touched his arm.

"Please..." was all she said to him, her eyes full of worry and concern. But there was more: She missed him. That's what made the feeling of fear and doubt fade. He couldn't second guess himself with June there wanting him to stay. He sensed her sincerity and nodded, allowing her to lead him into the long hallway just inside the entrance. He stood there looking around nervously as she locked the door before she linked her arm in his once more and lead him down the hallway to the foyer. Neal looked around the large room, noting the huge hearth in the corner and the dining room separated from the main area. He was more than familiar with the layout of her home, but it felt like an eternity since what happened three months ago. This was truly like a homecoming for him. Neal still felt strange about being here again but because it was June, he would stay for her sake.

"Neal?" He turned and looked at her with those bright blue eyes as she called his name softly. She still seemed somewhat hesitant towards him but tried to act normal as if nothing had changed. "If you want to get cleaned up, I'll have Maggie make us some lunch. Take your time." She smiled at him in her old familiar manner, her eyes looking briefly upwards, as she turned and walked around the corner into the dining room and disappeared.

Neal felt that was his cue although he was still feeling a bit out of sorts. He made his way up the familiar staircase slowly, still wondering if he was making a mistake coming back here. When he reached the door to what had been his room, he reached into his pocket out of habit and blinked when he found the key to his room. He knew he had returned it to June before he left but how it got into his pock... He chuckled quietly realizing June's game. She had been close to him since they'd met in the Park and had obviously slipped it in without him knowing. Clever of her! He grinned and opened up the door.

It was as June had said. Nothing had changed. The room was a small penthouse-type apartment or studio. It was one large room with everything in the same space and one adjoining bathroom. The chess set sat on the table as if he and Mozzie were still playing and the glass doors leading out to the terrace were just as inviting though in a more wistful manner now that he was back.

He dropped his bag on the floor just beside the door and walked around the room slowly and deliberately. His glance kept moving towards the wardrobe where all of June's late husband's clothes hung. Neal made his way towards it and caught his reflection in the full length mirror between it and the king-sized bed. His face looked paler than it had three month ago, his features more angular. He had a kind of pallor to him you see when people have been through a rough patch or else faced some major illness. It had been so sudden when Kate died that he decided to run away. Peter had tried to help him and so had Elizabeth but after a week of staying with them and trying to make things work he had to leave. He had left a note, the coward's way of ending things, and stole away in the night before anyone could stop him especially Peter. He had sent a card to June to let her know he was going but he had yet to contact Mozzie. He figured he had hurt enough people without causing more damage.

For the past three months he had lived off what little cash he had acquired legally while working with Peter as a consultant. It hadn't been much so he had spent alot of time traveling between here and there in the city, hiding from everyone. He had been surprised that nobody came to find him and that was probably why he had come to think he had been wrong to think he had family here muchless friends. He spent many a sleepless drunken night in a shady dive or night club trying to keep himself from remembering. He rubbed at his eyes, seeing the circles there in the mirror aswell as the sunken look of his cheeks.

Neal walked over to the terrace after a while, opened up the french doors and stepped out into a nice cool breeze. His hair whipped around him as the wind played with it and he walked to the edge of the balcony and looked around. It was nice to be back, glancing over at the 10 million dollar view of the city. He thought of all the times he had eaten breakfast up here with June, Peter... it brought a sad smile to his face. He turned away from the view and sat in one of the wrought iron chairs at the small table and leaned back. He could almost smell the sweet scent of Italian roast as he drifted off in the chair.

_Neal looked up from the paper to find Peter staring at him from across the room. The agent looked sleepy and a bit on edge for once. Neal waved him over, pouring a cup of Italian roast in an extra cup and pushing it across the table. Peter nodded with a slight smile as he walked over and took the cup with a grateful expression. "**Thanks. I must look like hell warmed over.**" Neal blinked at his friend's comment._

_"**You look tired. Stakeout?**" Neal motioned for Peter to sit and finally the agent did, sipping at the coffee like a beer._

_"**Yeah. Ended up being a bust. Could have found out more and stayed in bed doing it.**" He gave a humorless chuckle, sipping at the coffee and pouring some more. "**I could really get used to this.**" Neal chuckled this time._

_"**Peter, you know you're always welcomed. So, what brings you here?**" Neal sounded his usual charming, confident self. He saw his friend nod, a slight grin on the agent's face._

_"**Got a case for you. Right up your alley.**" Neal perked up, taking sip of his own coffee and folding the paper, laying it on the table._

_"**I'm all ears.**"_

_"**Neal...**"_

"Neal..." He heard Peter's voice repeat and someone was shaking him gently but with a firm hand. The young man woke up, opening his eyes and found himself staring up into a pair of familiar brown eyes. He sat up with a start and looked at the figure before him.

"Hey, sorry. I didn't mean to startle you." Peter's voice was quiet, calm and he looked relieved in some manner as if something he had been looking for had been found. Neal blinked away his sleepiness and rubbed at his eyes. Peter was still standing there. This was no dream.

"Peter? How..." He saw June peeking around the corner from the doorway, a tray of food in her hands. She saw the two men and smiled in her friendly manner and walked in.

"I thought you two might be hungry. Agent Burke, will you be staying for lunch?" She brought the tray over and set it on the table. Peter looked between the two and finally nodded with a hesitant smile. "Sure, if it's ok with everyone?" He turned his eyes back to Neal who realized that he was being asked permission. The young man gave a vague little nod, still surprised at the agent's presence.

June gave Neal a little wink that only he saw as she started to take things off the tray and spread them out. She had brought several small sandwiches of varying kinds all cut neatly and into halves. There was also a pitcher of what appeared to be lemonade and another with water, both tinkling softly with ice. Neal stood and helped her with the tray, removing the two pitchers and pouring two glasses of water and two of lemonade while motioning for Peter to sit across from him. They both seemed to be on eggshells but hid it well as June performed her hostessing.

Once the food had been spread out and the drinks distributed, June made an excuse to leave, closing the door quietly behind her as she left the room. Neal continued to stand for a little while after she left before noticing Peter looking up at him from his chair. The young man sat back down, took a long sip from his water glass before taking a sandwich from the plate and holding it in his hand. He continued to hold it without taking a bite while watching Peter start chewing on what appeared to be a ham and cheese on wheat. The agent was apparently hungry but he only took small bites, his eyes looking around the terrace but occasionally glancing over at the young man in a quick not so hidden manner. There was something on his mind but like Neal, he was apparently unsure how to deal with the situation. So they sat there in silence a while, Neal looking at his sandwich like some kind of specimen in a museum and Peter taking his time eating the small half of sandwich he had initially picked up.

It was when the sandwich was finally gone that Peter cleared his throat, took a quick sip of lemonade and wiped at his lips. He looked directly at Neal, opened his mouth but then stopped and looked down at the table and the sandwiches as if considering grabbing another before changing his mind as he glanced at the young man yet again.

"Elizabeth wanted me to thank you for getting her that gig at the _Channing_. She couldn't stop talking about how much fun it was and all the business it brought her. She made alot of important contacts through that event." He paused, taking another sip of his lemonade and then grabbed another sandwich, it looked like turkey or chicken, and placed it on his plate. Neal nodded with as much of a smile as he could muster and spoke softly. Neither of them was keen to speak of the person responsible for everything: Fowler.

"I'm glad I could help." He wanted to say more but his voice clammed up on him. Neal felt guilty for everything that had happened to both Peter and El, aswell as his leaving them without telling them good-bye in person. He had been a coward from the beginning, and after all the Burkes had done for him, he was still too much of a coward to face them, especially Peter, and tell them how he really felt. He couldn't bare to think that he had hurt them but he also couldn't bare to stay long enough for them to tell him what he knew all along: that they cared for him. When he made his deal with Fowler he had broken all promises to everyone and thrown any chance he had with his current friends away. He had basically tossed them aside for the promise of a new life with Kate. Guilt ate at him as he thought about what he had done. To be forgiven, he didn't think that was a luxury he deserved.

"I wouldn't have come by but June called me. I haven't told El yet. I was on my way home... " Peter's voice sounded guarded but there was enough emotion to tell the young man that the agent was having the same kind of dilemma with what he wanted to say. It had been three whole months since they had parted after what would have proved to be Neal's freedom. Peter stood up and put his hands in his coat pockets in an uncharacteristic manner, waving them so it looked like his coat could spread like wings.

"I'm glad you did. I... I'm sorry." Neal spoke as he looked down at the uneaten sandwich in his hand and placed it back on the plate, wiping at his hands with a napkin. The young man's face looked more pale than usual as he tried to hold back the emotional river behind what had been a dam of snark and charm but he couldn't do it. The dam was cracking and everything he had been running from was going to flow forth like a torrent. Something warm and wet rolled down his cheek.

"Peter... I never thanked you." He stood up and walked around the table grabbing the surprised agent in a hug. He felt Peter tense a bit then relax and the Fed hugged him back. It was only for a moment but something about the action made the young man feel so much better than he had. He let go and moved back a few feet, looking at the agent who now had similarly shiny eyes as he held back his own tears. The agent sniffed slightly, a broad smile on his face.

"I could say the same. Thank you that is. El wanted to talk to you so much after what happened but... well she hasn't been the same since you left. Atleast work keeps her busy." Peter walked over to the edge of the terrace and looked over the city. "She misses you although Mozzie has stopped by a few times. I think he's fond of her too." He turned, coat flapping some in the wind as he took his hands out of his pockets. The tension was breaking between them.

"There were so many times I wanted to find you, but El told me to let you be. In the beginning, she wanted me to bring you back home but we finally agreed you needed your space, so I just... well I knew where you were. I figured when the time came you would come back of your own free will or not." He gave a slight smirk and shrugged. "I'm sorry. I couldn't help but be sure you were safe." Peter put his hands back into his coat pockets and moved forward back into the apartment and towards the door. He seemed to feel some guilt about tracking the young man.

"I'll be seeing you?" He said it without turning around, something that made Neal blink as the agent opened the door and left the room, the door closing softly behind him. He could hear footfalls echo to silence as Peter walked down the hallway. Neal just stood there on the terrace, wind whipping at his hair in gentle strokes.

It seemed like he stood there forever thinking about things before Neal found himself on the other side of the door, taking the steps two at a time and rushing out of the estate. He made it halfway down the sidewalk towards a familiar vehicle, its lights turning white as it reversed to leave. He stopped a few feet behind it, seeing the red brake lights come on as the sound of the engine died and the driver's side door opened revealing Peter. The agent looked curiously at the young man as he stepped out of the car.

"Mind if I tag along?" Neal felt his face actually smile for the first time since everything had happened. He felt a great weight falling from his shoulders. He saw Peter nod with a grin of his own, the sound of the passenger side door unlocking. Neal grinned back, walking smoothly towards the vehicle and opening up the door to slip inside. He had barely strapped himself in and closed the door when he felt a hand on his shoulder. Peter was smiling at him.

"I believe El said she would have a pot roast ready for me tonight. You like pot roast, don't you?" The agent squeezed the young man's shoulder a moment before starting the car up again and pulling the vehicle out from the curb. Neal leaned back in the seat feeling more relaxed than he had and nodded, eyes looking out the window at a figure waving from the second story window. He waved back at the silhouette of June with a thankful smile before the car was out in the road and the figure was no longer visible.

"Yeah. Pot roast is good. I think El made it for me in the past." Neal felt the smile on his face growing and everything was falling back into place. He turned his attention to the dashboard and started messing with the radio. He heard a cough from Peter and glanced over at the agent curiously.

"Put it on the game. I missed the first half visiting with you." His tone was mock petulance that made the young man smirk and keep messing with the dial. "Game? I call dibs. You're driving and I'm the guest. Guest has first rights to the radio." Jazzy music came out of the speakers. He saw Peter roll his eyes some but the smile remained. "Fine. Just don't think this is going to be a regular occurrence. First thing next week, anklet is back on and you're back to work. Got it?"

Neal blinked. "Hmmm... you make it sound all so exciting. Should I start shining your shoes and walking 10 paces behind you with my head lowered?" His tone was nothing but snark, the agent grinning back.

"10 paces? That would be nice but then I couldn't see what you were doing. I'd have to suspect you were up to no good." He gave his own little smirk. The ball was back in Neal's court.

"Ok then, I'll walk next to you and watch your back. Deal?" He saw Peter turn briefly, holding out a hand and they shook.

"Deal."


	2. Chapter 2

Aftermath 2

The three months Neal spent away from the Burkes was one of the hardest times of his life. The young man had stayed with Peter and his wife Elizabeth for a good 7 days before he felt the need to leave. It wasn't that he didn't appreciate what they tried to do for him. He was grateful beyond words. His thoughts and feelings were not his own since the incident at the airport, and so cowardly, he had slipped away into the night.

He remembered the day that changed his life as clearly as if it had happened moments ago. Neal had paused only a moment to talk to Peter as the agent called to him. The young man felt conflicted between his obligations to those he had come to call _friends_ aswell as _family_, and his main concern which was going with Kate and starting the life he always thought he wanted.

It ended with fire and thunder. Neal turned to find his dream, the thing he had wanted most in life, what had kept him going in prison... gone.

Someone held him back as he tried to run towards the flaming wreckage of the dream he had clung to so tightly. Tears filled his eyes, rolling down his cheek. He couldn't move. He couldn't think. He felt blinded although he could see everything more clearly than before. Someone spoke to him over the roar of the explosion but his ears still rang with the thunderous sound and he could only catch a word here and there:

"Neal... please..." It was Peter's voice, barely audible but there like his own personal _Jimminy Cricket_. He was exhausted, shock and horror of all that had happened overcoming him. Neal felt his vision tunnel to black, Peter's voice still talking calmly to him over the ringing in his ears.

"I'm sorry, Neal."

**(6 days later)**

Neal woke up with a start, sitting ramrod straight and breathing hard. He pushed the covers aside and tried to stand up but he collapsed to the floor, nicking his arm on the nightstand near the bed. He wanted to cry out but he was too weak, breath coming in panting, shallow breaths. Neal lay on the floor, grasping at his chest. It felt tight as if he were having a heart attack. Sweat trickled down his face as he closed his eyes tightly, hoping the end would come soon. His thoughts went back to the explosion he should have died in. _Kate... I'm coming. Wait for me..._

Someone grasped his shoulder gently, talking to the young man in gentle tones. He opened his eyes briefly to find El looking down at him with a worried expression. She spoke to him but his ears rang with the beat of his heart as he gasped for air. He saw her turn and look behind, as she crouched there beside him, speaking to someone else just beyond his range of sight. He felt rather than heard someone moving towards them. Peter appeared. The agent crouched down, cell phone in hand and seemed to be talking to someone in hurried tones. Neal could hear nothing, the sound of his heart beating in his ears, pounding through his temples and his chest feeling like it was being crushed.

Neal watched Peter hang up the phone and reached down to feel at the young man's forehead, neck and chest. He watched the agent's lips moving but still couldn't hear through the rush of blood in his head and ears. Neal tried to make a sound but only heard a slight wheezy whistle escape his throat, the pain in his chest increasing. He was _hyperventilating_. Peter seemed to nod as if realizing what was up, standing and leaving for a moment. El stayed by the young man's side and gently brushed at his hair and hugged him until he saw Peter return with what appeared to be a brown paper bag. Neal could just make out the words "_Breath... into... this._" From the agent as his friend pressed the bag over his mouth and nose and held it there tightly.

It was an immediate change. Neal felt his breathing begin to stabilize as the bag filled and emptied with each inhalation and exhalation. He felt a bit lightheaded but now atleast the pain in his chest was beginning to ease up. His body relaxed some from its tight, semi-fetal position. He thought he heard a voice speaking low in the background.

"Peter, do you think he's going to be ok? Wait, I hear the ambulance. Stay with him." He felt the soft caressing of El's hand on his head stop and she stood, walking out of sight. He could almost hear the wail of a siren off in the distance. No it was closer now. Neal kept breathing in and out of the bag that Peter held over his mouth and nose till he felt he would pass out. He pushed weakly at the agent's hand and Peter removed the paper bag, cradling the young man's head on his lap.

"Neal? Can you hear me? Neal?" Peter's voice sounded more frantic than he would have thought. The man was always so calm and collected. Neal nodded vaguely, eyes looking up sleepily at his friend. The young man felt tired. So very tired. He just wanted to close his eyes and never wake up. Losing Kate had taken everything out of him. It had only been a week since the incident but he hadn't been able to sleep, muchless eat. It was the fact that he stayed with the Burkes that he was alive. Had it been up to him, he would have thrown himself into the fire with Kate. It didn't matter to him if he lived or died now that the one dream that had kept him going was gone.

"Peter, how is he?" He looked up again to see El standing there with two EMTs in beige and blue uniforms. They had a gurney with them along with what looked like a respirator. He rolled his eyes back to Peter languidly.

"Why..." Neal tried to say more but he was too tired. Exhaustion was overcoming him along with the depression of the past few days. He saw Peter leaning over him worriedly.

"Why what, Neal?" Peter looked confused, holding the young man's hand firmly in his own. Neal pulled his hand weakly against the man's grip, looking up at his friend with an almost angry expression.

"Why... did you... save me?" Neal saw the expression of confusion on Peter's face as he gaped down at him. He was at a loss for words and Neal wondered what the man would say if he could. He didn't care one way or another. Saving him was a _fool's errand_. Kate was dead. What did he care if he was alive. He was just a _tool_ in Peter's belt no more or less important than Rice had treated him. Neal turned his head away but someone grasped his chin in their hand gently and turned his face back around. He saw Peter's brown eyes glaring at him with frustration then soften.

"Why? Why do you think?" Peter looked angry suddenly, not at Neal but at the situation. Neal just nodded with a slight toss of his head and closed his eyes. He heard a rush of movement as the EMTs surrounded him and began to check his vitals. Something was pressed over his face and he opened his eyes to see it was the respirator he'd seen a moment ago. Peter was off to the side now hugging El close as they watched the scene as if from far away. Neal noticed how El pressed her face into Peter's chest and held him close. He watched Peter cradling his wife's figure in his arms as they stood there, his chin resting gently on her head.

_It wasn't fair!_ The thought screamed in his brain and he found himself hating them, the two people in the world who had taken him in without question. He hated that they were happy. He despised how much they seemed to love one another. Neal wanted nothing more than to leap up and run out the door of their house and into traffic. If a bus hit him now, it would be better than watching what he would never have. He started to feel his chest tighten up again and the EMT's looked worriedly between themselves.

"I don't understand this." He heard one of the EMT's say as the young man felt his chest grow even tighter with every moment. He was going to die... If he had to make his heart stop... Will it to quit beating, he would do so now. His eyes stared one last time towards his friends and saw that they were crying, their eyes trickling tears down both cheeks. El looked the worse for wear but Peter, he had never seen his friend look so _heartbroke_n. For a moment Neal had a kind of _epiphany_ as if everything had suddenly become so very clear. Peter _cared_. El _cared_. June... Mozzie. They all _cared_ for him, an ex-con; A nobody who cheated and charmed his way through life to get things for free.

He felt everything start to go black, vision tunneling away to gray as he continued to stare at his friends, envying what they had and wishing he could forget the past 6 days.

**(Just a Dream)**

Neal found himself in darkness. He seemed to float weightlessly there in the emptiness, his only friends despair and hopelessness. In the distance he saw a light glimmering like a faint star in the inky blackness. A part of him wanted to fly towards it. Voices murmured around him in soft rhythmic tones that lulled him into a false sense of security. He didn't know who was talking or about what but he didn't care. They were too far away for him to care. Neal concentrated on the light flickering off in the darkness and floated towards it.

"Don't!" He turned at the sound of a familiar voice shouting out to him. Kate stood there.

"Kate? KATE!" He felt his feet touch ground and suddenly he was running towards her and they were in the park. The smell of flowers, grass and a soft Summer wind filled his nostrils with sweet memories of days long gone. She smiled sadly at him, wistful perhaps. He pulled her into his arms and breathed her in. She was real. She was here! The scent of something soft in her hair and skin. He smiled inwardly, holding onto her tightly. He felt her arms slowly ease around him, slender fingers clinging to him.

"Neal..." She pushed him away gently to arms-length, her blue eyes sparkling with life. Kate was really here! He smiled at her, pulling her with him to the grass beneath their feet and they sat cross-legged. She leaned against his shoulder and he pulled a protective arm around her.

"I had a nightmare that you were gone. I'm so glad you're here." He kissed the top of her head gently. She moved her head to look back up into his eyes and he saw that sad wistful expression again.

"Neal... listen to me. What we had... it was a dream. Nothing more." He blinked at her words without comprehending. He couldn't listen, didn't want to listen, so he just smiled and nodded as if she were saying something foolish.

"Kate, we have our whole lives ahead of us. You're here. I'm never leaving your side again." He hugged her close again but she pulled away and stood up, brushing at her pants. He stared up at her curiously, her blue eyes staring off towards some distant object he couldn't see.

"Neal... this is a dream. It was always a dream. What we wanted. What you wanted. Mozzie was right. People like us..." She didn't finish the sentence but turned partially away from him as if she were going to walk away. He continued to sit there uncomprehending, not wanting to hear what she said.

"I'm sorry but this is the way it has to be. Go home, Neal. They're waiting for you."

She leaned over, her long dark hair surrounding him on both sides as she kissed him on the forehead. Her lips were warm and gentle against his skin. He reached up to pull her down but she sidestepped away from him and was suddenly standing far away.

"Remember, what we had was a dream. It's time to wake up, Neal." She turned to leave but paused and looked back at him once more.

"Tell Peter, I'm sorry. Trust him, Neal. He's a good man. Keep him close." She smiled and waved at him as if she were going to the store or on a trip and then everything faded to blackness as Neal reached for her, his voice pleading.

"Kate? Kate?"

"Kate?" Neal's voice was soft as he murmured sleepily. He opened his eyes to a dim light and squinted, focusing slowly on his surroundings. He found himself in a dimly lit sterile white room with bare furnishings. Something tickled at his right arm and he turned his head slowly, deliberately and found an IV tube. He followed its length from his arm up to a bag of some semi-clear liquid making a soft "drip drip" sound as it entered the tube. Neal watched it a moment before turning back to the left and continued his view of the room. His head ached but atleast the pounding from before was gone.

He had been dreaming. Kate was there. She told him good-bye for good. Neal reached up with some effort and wiped at his eyes with the bedsheets. Where he felt sad before he could now add the feeling of confusion and uncertainty. His future seemed up in the air. Everything he had was bet on one block of the roulette wheel and he had lost it all in that one tragic spin. He wiped at his eyes as he felt more tears forming.

Kate told him what they had had been a dream. Maybe... maybe he had been fooling himself all along that he could have a normal life. He remembered how he felt watching Peter and El. He remembered El's words when he tried to tell her good-bye: _Loving the idea of someone versus loving them for who they really were_. Perhaps she and Mozzie were right: _People like him couldn't have what everyone else had_. White picket fences, fixer-uppers and PTA meetings weren't for guys like him. Could he have settled down with Kate? Would he never have felt the need to steal again, have adventures and do things just to see that he could? Was he really all that irresponsible and reckless that his dream was just that... a dream?

He punched at the sides of the bed in frustration, wincing as he felt his knuckles hit against the bed railing. Neal sighed audibly, a loud exhale of air leaving his lips as he pushed himself back as far as he could against the pillows. He just wanted to be swallowed up by the darkness, anger and hurt. Why wasn't he dead? Why had he been fated to live when the one thing he wanted was taken away from him? His eyes narrowed and his thoughts turned darker as a name popped into his head: Fowler. He was responsible for this and whomever was over his head.

Neal fumed inwardly, feeling the tightness in his chest returning. He rolled onto his side and glared at the window across the room before burying his face in the pillow and letting the tears fall in muffled tones. He let it all out into the pillow till he could cry no more. His face felt warm and flushed, breath raspy, but in a way he felt better. Calmer maybe.

Neal thought about something Peter had asked him once: Meditation. He'd never considered meditation. He was too impatient to sit still and cross his legs long enough to do anything remotely calming like Yoga. He was a spur of the moment kind of person which meant he tended to be a bit high-strung and hyper. He had energy to burn and that was what made him do what he did. He did it for the adrenaline rush. He did it for the rush of excitement. Still, he did have some ability to hold back and plan things out in advance. Bond and art forgery didn't happen overnight. You had to have some patience along with talent to get things like that done. You couldn't do it half-ass and be successful at it. In that way, he was able to balance himself out.

His thoughts wondered like that for some time and finally he fell into a dreamless sleep. It had been night time when he fell asleep but the next time he opened his eyes, a soft stream of faint sunlight touched his cheek. He blinked sleepily and rubbed at his eyes. He tried to sit up but someone gently pushed him back and he turned away from the window to find Peter standing there at his bedside. The man looked weary, his clothes a bit disheveled as was his hair. He smiled tentatively at the young man as if unsure of something.

"Hi..." Peter's voice was somewhat quieter than usual. He sat back down in the chair by the bed and put a hand on the young man's arm. Neal pulled his arm away, regretting it when he saw the expression briefly shown by the agent. Peter nodded, stroking his chin to hide his disappointment.

Neal noticed for the first time that the Fed had a bit of fuzz around his face, something Neal had never seen on the man even when they had shared a room once or twice. He wondered what would make someone like Peter change so drastically. He had barely finished the thought when he heard a door open and both of them looked in that direction. Elizabeth stood there holding a couple of coffee cups. Peter stood without turning back towards Neal and walked towards his wife. He took one cup from her hand and kissed her on the cheek before he left the room in silence.

The young man watched as El turned with some confusion at her husband's actions. She turned back towards Neal and her surprised expression softened to that of concern. Neal felt himself squirm inwardly. He didn't want to be pitied. He wanted to be left alone. He wanted to throw himself into a ditch and drown. Jumping off the Brooklyn Bridge at this point and time would be a blessed release. He knew what she would say to him and he didn't want to hear it. Everyone was on eggshells around him and he didn't care. It was still sharp in his mind that he had failed. He wasn't going to get what he worked so hard to get. Fowler and whomever he worked for had made sure of that. Neal didn't think for a second about anyone but himself.

"Hi, Neal. Uhm..." She paused as if unsure what to say but kept smiling slightly, the look of concern and worry still there. He thought he was going to be ill. Why couldn't they just leave him alone? He crossed his arms over his chest and turned his head towards the window. He heard the chair scratch the floor as she pulled it closer. A soft hand touched his shoulder but he shrugged it off. She tried again but he turned and glared at her, her body stiffening as she took a hesitant move back. El looked at him as if putting two and two together then glanced back at the door.

"I see... I guess you gave Peter the cold shoulder aswell?" She glared slightly at the young man. It didn't last long. He knew it wouldn't. She was too nice. Too understanding. He heard her sigh and sit in the chair. She just sat there, staring down at her coffee and taking a sip off and on. He stared at the window without giving her the luxury of his presence beyond their actual proximity.

Finally he heard the chair scoot some and turned to see her stand up. She dropped the now mostly empty cup into a nearby trashbin and turned to go. Half way to the door she paused and turned back. She crossed the distance and stood between him and the window.

"I'm not going to tell you what you think I would. You're not in the mood to listen." She sounded flustered, controlled anger ringing in her tone. "I've been where you are but you don't want to hear that. You want to wallow in your emotions and sink into despair. Fine." He blinked at her, watching her face flush as she tried not to be angry but was.

"Neal... people..." She couldn't say that to him. He knew what it was she was going to say but she obviously couldn't do it. She was mad at his pushing them out. Pushing everyone away and nearly killing himself from despair but she couldn't say what she had meant to say. He said it for her as something dark controlled him.

"Die? Yes they do, but what would you know about that? You have Peter." He pushed his face into the pillow and closed his eyes. "Now that we have that established, can you please leave?" His voice was cold and passionless. She made no noise so he wasn't prepared to feel a hand slap his face. He opened his eyes and stared at her coldly.

"And yes... I do know what you're going through." Her voice lacked emotion but he could understand what it was she was saying. El just left it at that and turned with a look of disappointment on her face and left the room. He turned back to the window and continued to stare at the bland beige curtains.

It was a few minutes after she left that he heard the door open again. He thought "_Oh great, more lectures?_" He turned to see Peter standing there. Neal just rolled his eyes and turned away again, his eyes staring at the window blankly. He could see Kate in his mind sitting on the sofa there. She was beckoning to him to come sit with her. Neal smiled to himself at the thought until someone blocked his view.

"Neal, we have to talk." The young man glared up at the Fed and buried his face in the pillow again, punching his fist into the mattress.

"There's nothing to talk about. You have your happily ever after and mine exploded. Let me wallow in peace." He closed his eyes but felt Peter grasp his shoulder firmly. Neal opened his eyes again and stared at Peter with little expression. He didn't care if they hated him. It was best this way. If they no longer cared, if he could make sure they would leave him alone, he could disappear and nobody would come look for him. He could be with Kate. He could fall in a hole and hide there. He would make them leave him alone if he had to punch Peter in the face.

"I don't know what's gotten into you. If you think that by acting this way, we'll leave you alone, you have another thing coming, Neal." The young man gazed up at the man and smirked.

"Really? So if I were to say punch your lights out for no reason right here, right now you wouldn't hit me back or throw me back in prison?" Neal continued to smirk, his face a mask of conceit. Peter looked like he wanted to be furious with the young man but he just walked over to the sofa and sat down. The Fed leaned back, eyes closed but continued talking.

"El told me what you were up to and I saw how you acted with me. I don't mind that you do it with me. I know you. El... she told me she slapped you. You shouldn't have done that to her, Neal." His voice sounded tired and hurt but the young man still didn't care. He wanted to but he couldn't. He had to lash out at someone and if not the people who hurt him then those that reminded him of what he had lost. It made no sense but at the moment, he was not in a very "sensible" mood.

"Yeah, she hits like a girl. Didn't even feel it." He chuckled slightly for effect, then saw Peter's expression. A sick feeling came over the young man. He had never seen Peter look so angry or hurt. He had taken this act too far but he couldn't take what he said back. It was there like a white elephant for all to see. Neal bit at his lip finally thinking maybe he was being foolish but he was still too proud and hurt to do anything about it.

"Fine. If that's the way you want it." Peter stood up and walked around to the foot of the bed, his body stiff with anger.

"Push the people who care for you away and you'll have nothing, Neal. Don't think this act of yours will keep us from helping you." He heard a sigh from the man and then the sound of the door opening and closing softly.

"Good riddance..." Neal muttered to himself as he bit hard on his lip and ground his teeth.

**(Coward's Way)**

The next day was when Neal was going to be released. Despite his "amiable" nature, Peter came to pick up the young man. Unfortunately, Neal had already left. It was the coward's way out but he didn't want to see them. He still felt ill from what he had said to them as it all sank in. He couldn't face them when he had treated them so badly. He left a note in the hospital room.

_Peter,  
Regardless of everything said, I'm sorry. You and El have burdened yourselves with me long enough. I need to deal with this loss on my own. Please don't try to find me. Tell Elizabeth she was right to slap me. Tell her... I wish her luck in her business._

_A fool_

He figured what he left was more than enough. He didn't want to ramble on and he had to leave before they showed up for him. Neal felt badly but it was in everyone's best interest he disappeared. Maybe he would jump off the Brooklyn Bridge. It would make a spectacular headline: _Neal Caffrey, pet con for the Feds and infamous art thief dies tragically_. He thought about it and shook his head. Too cheesy and too formulaic. His death needed to be far more exciting than this. Maybe he could get shot up doing a heist at the Met. The ideas swam through his mind like rabid piranhas evaporating as he realized the ridiculousness of it all. He was too tired to do anything at the moment. He looked up from his feet and tapped on the partition motioning the cabbie to stop.

Neal stood on the corner where he almost stayed once. It was a nasty little _hotel_ within his previous two mile radius. He no longer had the _anklet_ on so he was free to go anywhere he wanted. He walked up the street past the hotel and thrift shop nearby. He remember how he had met June there and had acquired the penthouse apt he used to live in. He wondered how he had managed to charm his way into her life. It seemed like a dream.

The young man stopped inside a nearby stationary store, browsing till he found what he wanted. He took the card to the clerk along with a pen and bought them both. He quickly scribbled a note in the card, his eyes misty as he did so. Finally he pushed the card into the envelope, sealed it and walked down a familiar side street till he found himself infront of June's. He pushed the card into her mail slot and quickly walked away. Another cab hurried by and Neal waved it down. Why was he still here? He was supposed to be gone. He didn't have much money but it was enough to get him by till something better came along. He gave the cabbie an address further uptown. It wasn't his usual haunting grounds so Peter wouldn't think to search for him there.

Weeks and months passed between his journey uptown and the time he had spent with the Burkes. He had little memory of what he did during his trip to the _land of self-loathing_. He spent many a night in shady little dives or bars and charmed women into buying him drinks. If not for his extended layover in _guiltsville_, he might have made some new friends and had people to stay with. Instead he acted like a fool and drunk himself silly till he was either ignored by the majority of the people around him or asked to leave. These weren't people he cared about so it didn't bother him in the least he was treating them badly.

Neal found a few shelters to stay in and at times a stoop or two to sleep things off. There was a time or two during his binge that he almost thought he felt someone was watching him. He could never see who but it was just a feeling he had. One particularly cold night he dreamed he heard a familiar voice. It was only a dream because when he woke up shivering, Peter wasn't there. It was strange though because he had been close to broke and suddenly found a bit of money in his wallet. It had been well hidden but he had been looking everywhere, his stomach telling him he needed to eat. He found a small cafe and managed to get himself a plate of eggs and sausage. It was meager but it was enough to settle his stomach.

He started to notice his clothes were a bit looser on him but then he ate very little and drank himself into a stupor most nights. He had never been one to drink beyond his limits but he wanted to forget.

It was after nearly three months he found himself in a familiar block of town. As if his anklet was on, he roamed within the radius and finally stopped near Central Park, paying the cabbie. He had stopped drinking himself stupid a good two weeks before he returned to his old haunting grounds. He still hurt but now he felt something new stirring in him: _loneliness_. Nobody had come to find him and although he had wanted to disappear, it wasn't what he expected.

Neal was here... He wandered into the park towards a familiar gazebo.


	3. Chapter 3

Aftermath 3

Neal leaned back in the passenger seat of Peter's car and glanced out the window. New York hadn't changed but it seemed fresher, newer to him now that he was out of the worse of his haze. He would never truly be over the loss of Kate even if 10 years had passed him by but in three months he had managed to atleast get the worse of his anger and frustration out.

He suddenly remembered how he had acted with Peter and El in the hospital. The week he had spent with them had been _hellish_ while he tried to disappear and his friends did their best to keep him alive. He had been a total ass if nothing else. Neal remembered little more than long days of sleeping in and only getting out of bed when Peter or El would come to bring him food or coax him downstairs to play with Satchmo. He would walk the dog occasionally in their backyard but he never really tried to be present that week. His body was with them but his mind and spirit had been anywhere but there. When he woke up that one night and thought he was dying, Peter and El were there for him but he hadn't thanked them. He had felt nothing but hatred towards them. They were _happy_. They were _together_. He had _nothing_.

Neal sighed and heard a cough from his left. Peter was looking at him with a slightly worried expression. Neal did his best to smile and the agent nodded back with a grin, turning his attention back to the road. He didn't want his friends to be unhappy because of him. He didn't want to be mopey and depressed but he knew that until he could push this behind him, not away, but behind him, he couldn't move on. He didn't want to forget Kate, he just wanted to get over the pain and loss.

He continued to think about all that had happened and then it occurred to him. The last time he saw Elizabeth, she had been angry with him. Well more disappointed than anything but he hadn't helped her feel any differently. He had tried his best to push all her buttons and get her to leave him alone. She had refused to let him wallow in his self-pity and anger by slapping him. He had been shocked at worse by what she did but his pride and hurt refused to show how he felt. He had stared coldly back at her and El had left the room nearly in tears. Peter had come in soon after and tried to remedy the situation but again, pride and hurt spoke for the young man and something _dark _had replied to his friend. It wasn't Neal Caffrey the _charming thief_ that had spoken but Neal Caffrey the _angry young man_. Peter's expression had all but made him feel badly for how he had acted. That's when he had made his plans. He was to be released from the hospital the next day to Peter, but Neal slipped out before anyone could notice and _vanished_. He had left a note in his room that the nurse had probably handed them.

Neal felt the shudder of the car as the engine died and felt a gentle hand on his shoulder. Peter was looking at him.

"We're here." Neal nodded at the agent, rubbing at his eyes sleepily. The trip had felt so much longer than it actually was. He peered out the passenger side window and saw the narrow two-story house Peter shared with his wife Elizabeth. It was cute in a _white picket fence_ sort of manner without the actual picket fence. Eight steps lead up to their door. Neal thought about the interior and how smartly it was decorated when he heard a cough again and saw Peter staring at him.

"Coming?" Neal nodded, removing his seat-belt and opening up the door. He stepped out into the sunlight and squinted some, using his hand as a visor. He glanced up and down the street but unlike his initial visit with June, he had no urge to run. He wanted to get this over with but not in the sense that it was done and finished. He wanted to be here and hopefully return to the carefree nature he and the Burkes had shared. Neal tried not to think of the last words he had with El.

Peter poked at him in the shoulder gently, making him turn and look at him. Those brown eyes didn't judge him. He saw compassion and concern for a friend in them. Neal tried to smile back and thought he probably wasn't doing a good job. He saw his friend smile back.

"Don't worry. She's not going to _slap_ you again." Neal felt his cheeks redden then saw the grin on Peter's face and realized his friend was just teasing him. He gave a nervous chuckle back hoping beyond hope she wasn't still upset with him. Peter put a hand on the young man's back and pushed him forward gently, closing the car door behind him and locking it.

"Are you sure?" Neal's voice sounded uncertain. Maybe he should feel like running but his feet kept moving, Peter's hand on his back as a gentle persuader.

"Yes... she's been asking about you ever since she knew I was out there _watching your back_." Neal paused half way up and turned to his friend with a curious look.

"I guess it was you I kept sensing when I had the feeling someone was watching me." Neal stared at his friend as if trying to figure something out. He saw Peter's expression turn to that of someone who'd been found out. The Fed rubbed at the back of his neck.

"Yeah, I guess if you knew someone was watching you, I didn't do a good job." His face looked rather embarrassed but Neal shook his head.

"Actually, I never would have guessed it was you. Although... one night I seem to recall hearing your voice in my head and waking up to some found money." Neal peered at his friend but the man just shrugged.

"Hmmm... interesting. Can't say I know what you're talking about though." Peter just sort of smirked as if he knew something before he walked up the rest of the steps and opened the door. Neal followed along, pausing briefly at the threshold. Peter looked back at him as he removed his jacket and hung it on a coat rack by the door.

"Should I bring out some _holy water_ and _garlic_ or are you coming in?" Neal blinked then smiled slightly embarrassed and nodded, walking across the entryway and closed the door behind him. He leaned against the door frame a moment as if trying to hold back something. Peter patted the young man on the shoulder and smiled confidently.

"El, I'm home!" The agent called out as he coaxed the young man towards the small living room area and a comfy couch. Neal moved _slowly_, _deliberately_ as if he were walking on _quicksand_ and didn't want to sink through. He had barely stepped from the small entry way to the living room when he heard someone call out.

"Peter? You're late!" Her voice wasn't annoyed or angry, just concerned. Neal knew her well enough to know when she was angry but this wasn't one of those times. Her voice actually sounded rather _cheerful_.

Neal gave a nervous little gulp as he felt the urge to turn around and flee but it was too late. She walked in from the kitchen area, door swinging open with a quiet _whoosh_ and turned pausing. Her face paled about three shades as she stared at the young man a moment, mouth agape. She had a small plate of something in her hand but he couldn't tell what as it was covered with foil.

Peter crossed the room and hugged his surprised spouse, kissing her on the cheek. She absently squeezed him back with her free hand, kissing him on the cheek while still looking at Neal like she just saw a ghost. Peter carefully extracted the plate from her hand and walked it over to their dining table at the far side of the room leaving them staring at one another. Neal gulped again unsure of what to do.

"Hi..." was all he could think to say and suddenly had this weird flashback to watching "_An Affair to Remember_" with Kate. The memory itself was silly but the idea of Kate made him want to cry. He felt his eyes start to water.

"Here." Someone was holding a tissue to his face and he saw El standing there before him. Her face was somewhat guarded but after a moment she just smiled that simple smile of hers that expressed all kinds of emotion. He took the tissue from her and sniffled slightly. He didn't know what to do. He felt a bit self-conscious about crying in public so he just nodded to her and smiled back.

"Neal, could you please make sure Peter doesn't start _eating_ before I'm finished setting the table?" The young man blinked at her and nodded vaguely. She smiled sweetly at him but he could see she was hiding her emotions at seeing him for the first time. Her eyes were shiny but she just kept smiling at him and gave him a little squeeze before turning around and waggling her index finger at Peter.

Neal didn't know what to think. He looked down at the tissue in his hand and pushed it into his pocket with a quiet sniffle. He removed his jacket and put it up on the coat rack before he finally walked across the room to the dining table, a dazed sort of expression across his face. Peter motioned the young man to sit down but Neal remained standing.

"I'll be right back." Neal said quickly and made his way over to the kitchen door, pausing only briefly before he pushed it open and disappeared inside.

El was hunched over the oven slightly, pulling out a large pan. Neal crossed the room, grabbing some extra oven mitts along the way and started helping her bring the item out. It smelled good. Really good. She just smiled at him as they placed the item on the stove.

"Thanks, Neal." Her voice was soft and she turned away from him a moment to grab a large spoon. She started to dip it in the sauce around the pot roast and dribble it over the meat. Neal removed the mitts and placed them neatly on the counter, watching as she finished her task. She bent down and pulled another smaller pan out from a lower cabinet and handed it to Neal.

"Hold this and help me move this over." He nodded and the pot roast was moved successfully from one pan to another. She wiped at her brow, a relaxed look on her face. She pulled her mitts off and removed the white apron from around her waist.

"Shall we?" She winked at him and he nodded, taking the pan with him, her arm linked with his. They pushed through the swinging door to a surprised Peter who stared up and grinned.

"Ah ha... caught you!" Neal almost dropped the roast but El took it from his hands and clucked her tongue at her husband. Peter continued grinning.

"Trying to steal my dinner before I get to eat it. And I thought you only liked caviar and champagne." Neal felt his heart slip slowly back down to his chest.

"Peter... stop it! I hope you washed your hands?" She pointed at the kitchen and did the same to Neal who had a surprised look still on his face. Both men shuffled quietly over to the swinging door and stepped through.

Peter smiled at the young man as they shared the sink. Neal looked a little pale.

"I'm sorry. I was trying to make a joke. I guess you're still a little..." Neal nodded despite how easily it had been to talk to El so far. Well she had done most of the talking so he felt she had forgiven him.

"_Eggshells_... I think they say walking on them is what I feel like right now." He tried to smile but he still looked a bit nervous. Peter finished washing his hands, dried them and patted the young man on the back.

"No eggshells here unless you count the color paint we added to the bathroom walls." Neal blinked then chuckled. His color was returning and he saw Peter's eyes flash jovially.

"Come on or she's going to go on the warpath and make us do the dishes." He was just turning to the door when someone called out.

"I heard that!"

Peter flinched in mock fear before he walked through the door and disappeared. Neal finished drying his hands and leaned back on the sink a moment. He took in the soft pastel tones of the kitchen. The _fluttering_ of the light yellow curtains at the window and even the small decor items El had chosen. He took it all in and absorbed it.

"_...Go home, Neal. They're waiting for you._" He heard Kate's voice from his dream month's before. He felt at _home_ here. He felt _safe._ _He felt..._

"Neal, the roast is getting cold." El peeked in from the other room and smiled at him, her eyes showing concern. He nodded and pushed himself away from the sink and walked forward. She smiled, holding the door open for him as he walked over. He caught the door as she walked away and paused outside of it as he tried to finish his interrupted thought.

_He felt..._

"Are we having pot roast?" Neal nearly fell over as he turned and saw a familiar figure standing near the front door. That _rabbity_ twitch of their nose, the thick glasses... _He felt... _

"Mozzie?" Neal just stood there, the swinging door hitting him slightly in the back as he unconsciously let go of it. The gentle nudge of it pushing him back into the room. It was his friend. What was he doing here? Peter seemed to be thinking the same thing, a slightly annoyed look on the agent's face.

"Hello Moz. I guess El invited you to dinner?" Peter said as he looked up at his wife with a slightly annoyed look but she just clucked her tongue at him quietly and he did his best to smile. Mozzie looked between t_he Suits_ and Neal and seemed a bit confused and surprised too.

"Neal!" He walked over and then paused a few feet away. His voice grew quiet and he may or may not have known everyone could hear him.

"_So... I guess they sucked you back in?_" His tone was conspiratorial and it was all El could do to keep from laughing as she served food out on the plates. Neal nodded, holding his hand out to shake Moz's.

"Yeah, I guess you could say that." He paused then added.

"It's good to see you." His friend smiled broadly, still speaking in quiet tones everyone could hear.

"You too. I've been uhm _surveilling_ the premises in hopes of getting news on you. I guess I can stop now that I know you're back." He made a kind of sign that was supposed to be a "_hush hush_" kind of motion or something.

Neal nodded with a smile. "Of course."

Neal suddenly realized as he moved towards the group that there had been four plates on the table all along. El must have suspected something or why would she have set four places? Perhaps Peter had told her he was coming after all. He went back to his unfinished thought. _He felt..._

"Neal, come sit down." El was smoothing her skirt and sitting down near Peter to his right and Mozzie was sitting at the far end, while Neal made his way to the last seat to Peter's left and sat down. _He felt..._

"Ok, everyone dig in." El's voice was cheerful. It made him think of going home for a Thanksgiving dinner with family. _Family_... that's what it was he was feeling. He felt like he was with _family_.

Neal looked down at the meal on his plate and although he had never done so before, he found himself making a silent prayer. When he was done he picked up his fork and knife and began to dig into the feast. He ate _slowly_, _deliberately_, taking in everything he could. He wanted to remember this forever and carry it with him like a worn out photograph in a wallet. He listened to the chatter around him and he contributed it when he could. Everyone was smiling. Even Mozzie looked happy.

So this was what it felt like to have family. At one point he thought he felt a gentle hand on his shoulder and turned. A quick whiff of a familiar scent caught his senses briefly and he could of sworn he heard Kate's voice say:

"_They're waiting for you._"

(The End)

**Thx for reading. Thx for all the reviews.**


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